A Matter of Age
by Vampiratelady
Summary: It's only a matter of age for William III to understand and move on through his life. Can the pirate king and pirate lord be successful in raising the only heir to the pirate throne? Willie's POV. This is still the JE factor!


**A:N// **This little idea has been nagging me throughout the summer vacation I spent outside of town. I can't entirely focus on making a simple epilogue for Fugitives From Justice, as I felt the need to, but the last chapter, I think, is enough. I forbid myself in other ships that's not Sparrabeth and noticed there are only few stories with William III playing a big role in them. So I thought why not make the little guy much miserable because this story is a bit angst-y. Still Jack and Elizabeth though. I'm now practicing in using the first person and present tense in writing a story. So I need your reviews: opinion, reaction, feedback, in this one. Constructive criticisms are always welcomed.

A lovely thanks for the reviews and criticisms. It helped me a double lot.

Disclaimer: I don't owe pirates! They're all throughout free from my obsession.

Summary: It's only a matter of age for William III to understand and move on through his life. Can the pirate king and pirate lord be successful in raising the only heir to the pirate throne? Willie's POV. This is still the JE factor.

**A Matter of Age**

The kernel and most simplest concept in the round place they call The World is its ability to hold life- beings that carry complex kind and knowledge, mathematical attributes that no one knew were from, but was inexplicably existing and used by men of credible mind. It is then that I am introduced to the general taste of its riches. With little experience and understanding that my mother slowly feed and nourished by telling stories of the vast adventures that are beyond the little house we now live and sleep. I become hungry like an unfed cub for them every day, during Mother's work in stitchery and before I felt my eyes closing- and there it was again. My father.

In the dream, he is standing behind the wheel of a ship, closer that it get to the island but too far that it is almost a dot in the horizon. There are several things that course through my mind, it could be named as 'emotions': excitement, fear, worry, happiness. It all swirl too fast inside that it can't be fully grasped at what you can easily describe to be a son's reaction to see his father for the first time. Or maybe it was. How should a little boy know?

I saw myself, looking at Mother as she did looked back at me. Then and there, as we reached the slightly crumbling soil that was the end of the tall cliff, the song he knew and liked so much ended. Never finish.

Year 1665

It was a wet season. The time to prepare for the worst of all weather was coming all t1`o quickly. Mother knew enough that she can say what was happening other then to put layers of assuring words for her son. Being that I was almost nine years old to argue with her, she never forgets to abide her rule of 'mother come first' when the situation is stricken-deadly. And she will go off, while I finds myself hidden and sick with worry.

She tells Jack to keep an eye, as I keep my ears against the door. No doubt, to keep an eye on me and not on her as much as I plead Jack to. But the pirate is, quite amusingly, in between making a decision. If only there's a chance that will befall upon me, to barge in there and insist on my own. Either way it can't be, obeying Mother will ease her worry maybe only a portion, she never stop worrying and she trust Jack so much. I trust him so much too.

Jack. From the sayings of the people, merchants, pirates himself, those who know him, those who doesn't. His name is all over the world known for years and years before him still, fame at his tail in earliest years of his time. Mother is proud that she met the infamous captain. Been apart of his crew to sail the seven seas on the famed and feared ship, The Black Pearl. That is what I hear coming from her mouth all the time. But no doubt that there's more than admiration in the way she prattle the stories again or new- their stories. Adventures that any mind cannot imagine, eyes that cannot even possibly see. From facing the face of death and dead people themselves, fighting immortal Gods and Goddesses, beheld almost within the fangs of mythical creatures, places beyond the map, treasures no one know of, curses of being a skeleton for eternity, water that will make you young for as long as time stretch, and other is Jack's. His discoveries, success, failure, knowledge that he used to escape troubles, truth that no one even dared to uncover. Mother didn't doubt them as fake or fabricated. Jack said so. With little embarrassment and compliment, Mother is the only one hard-headed and fool enough to unravel his legends.

And so that day, Mother puts her arms around Jack's neck, the only way to force him, and kisses him shut, spell bound. When the first time they tried to explain, with shameful faces, what they thought me in my age won't understand. I often called them lovesick fools. Jack would laugh and Mother would scold me for 'inheriting' as Jack corrects her, words that is not for me to use.

They fight. Almost all the time. Intelligent words and mind against mind. But never did I saw them fight again like the first time I heard Jack's harsh words, saw them shouting at each other. Mother slapped him, but Jack never raise a finger back, even the rage that was nipping at his face, saw him clenching his fist so hard that it would left wound marks. His restraint, the way he kept looking away, was evident. He know he'd hurt her enough without using violence. Something that he don't use in women. When my name is upon Mother's lips, all the while I noticed they never bring Father's name, only a notation that it's him they talk about, that's the time everything stopped. Jack stopped and never said a word before he disappear. I could see, despite the anger and resentment on Mother's face, the hurt was evident at his retreat.

I always wondered if Uncle Jack have feelings for my mother. But I don't ask him. I won't. We're not related by blood, not my father, whom I haven't laid eyes upon, but he's almost close to it. Always there, but never will be. I overheard them one time. Jack decided to leave before what they said was 'that one day' and will never come back. Mother could not argue. They're on her room, talking. She want to reach him, but can't tell him to stay. I want him to stay. But even if I tell her so, she would probably be suspicious that I am eavesdropping on them.

Jack came back on the night right after the fight. Drunk, but he seems having enough sense to go inside when he's sure that my mother is asleep. He stumbled against my door, or was it his intention? I allowed him inside, telling him that Mother always check on me early in the morning. He seems to be in a state of Dyspepsia, hurling time to time but trying not to anyway. He didn't took my warning. And it seems he plan on leaving much earlier before that. But I wondered why he came back. What for if it's not because of Mother?

I asked him about his ship, his first mate, feeling as though he need someone to talk to. And he did. He talked to me, switching from sober to bright every then and there as he kept on drinking when I told him not to. He was clearly upset about Mother, saying that she burned his rum, fooled him and somewhere I don't know, catching words that sounded like 'killed' and 'marry' as his words turned muffled in his drunken stupor. Then, there it is-

He said he love her, he wanted her 'for himself' I noted him saying with a silent remark towards my father. He didn't hide it but was looking ashamed that he's telling those things to me. I was half terrified for all of those sound like a dying will to me, but I was never afraid. Not of Jack. But there's too many emotions that I cannot keep up with, however, I cannot hide the amusement that he seems to be sensing also. He continued with a little humor in his slobbered tone, saying that my father is so lucky, then took his words back, seemingly insulted the great deal part of his pride, and said that he's slow, that my father's only eight years fast ahead of him to winning my mother's affection. I told him, suddenly, without even thinking over my words that he already won. If it isn't him, then he'll find a hole in his head, I told him, laughing shortly. I know it, even though he look incredulous he was quite enlighten by them, I could feel he knows it too. I was surprised by the calmness in my voice, even though the topic was never for staid handling. I even said about the pursuers in the island that were almost slit in half for even trying themselves.

I was told then to keep the whole endeavor a secret between just the two of us. I, despite that I respect the pirate, was wondering if my Mother knows them. What would be her reaction? I was drinking my self into the questions inside my mind. But tried to keep it within my mouth, because I know better. Jack was, apparently, wounded that he confided in just a boy who was a matter in fact not suppose to mingle with adult affairs.

As I grow, Mother would always ask me about school more than it concerns her. She caught me with more than two girls at my age, clinging to me, for what it should be, a helping hand for the notes. She would tease me, talk herself where did I get such charms. Jack would snide a remark once again and would receive a spat from my mother. The topic seems so small, asinine to me, but I did admire the smartest girl in our class, for she reminds me of Mother.

At such a young age, the neighbors are impressed by my cleverness. I am just observant over things, or maybe, accidentally observing things that children at my age don't see. I never considered it a talent but a great necessity in living. There were people that was somehow chasing us. Never always. But there are instances that my mother and I have to hide in the forest to hide. That was before Jack ever started to visit us. He'll keep us in his ship when those times happened. I felt so much enjoyment that I felt like staying, maybe longer, pretend that we're sailing through storms, be taught by real sailors themselves and not just from those knowledgeable that sits in a table and writes in a board.

I am in Jack's company when sun strikes high, and asleep when it's dark. Mother would stay in the helm, sometimes with Gibbs, but most of the time with Jack. I could hear bets, whispers, all around me, but didn't pay heed to it, not even to tell my mother or Jack. Gibbs is the only one I could ask, but it seems didn't permit the idea to be discussed so openly, no, not at my age at the least. But he's the closest to his captain more than anyone. Gibbs could be old and still earn that merit of being one because Jack respects him like a brother would do.

I would ask him if Mother and Jack is into the wrong sided business, and the old man would instinctively shy away, he even ended up flustered, but nodded anyway before I start complaining again about a-not-fair-bargain when I know well about the bets while the captain doesn't know, not at one bit, or he may not care. Gibbs only doesn't want Jack to know what kind of bets they place on my mother. Anyone know how strict and touchy Jack could be when there's matters concerning her. He did enjoy the talk, even caught them one time while I was at the crow's nest. He stopped them maybe because he knows I was at earshot, unlike, the many times they let his crew on. Mother knows it too, for she'd roll her eyes and glare at Gibbs for the ill-conduct upon the captain's vessel, as she would put it. They won't either deny or put the crew in greater amusement.

The time is running quickly, I don't feel that I'm near ten years old, yet I can't put my words on the fact that my father will come home in a matter of months. I would see the total legends that people feared throughout the seven seas. I want to hear his stories, hear his voice. Want him to teach how to handle a sword himself and not Mother or Jack, as they are always the one who do so. I want to sleep in his arms and still see him the morning after. But Mother would say that Father have things to do. I won't ask for more, nor demand her to explain. I sensed it pained her somehow, when we talked about father. Jack won't show his usual enthusiasm when he catches the conversation. Mother would change the topic whenever Jack was there, nervous she'd look.

There's moments when I see her face sad, but not crying, she won't allow it when there's Jack and me. After tucking me into bed, she will stay a little bit longer, saying how I look like my father. Her voice sound odd to me, as though she's in pain, caressing my face while I watch her with my eyes half closed. I want to put my arms around her and tell her just to let the tears out rather than she bit her lips in agony at times. She'd still look strong in front of me, in her young and sweet smile as she would sing for me to ease the sounds of lightning outside our house. The same pirate song I would hear from Jack's mouth. It might be the only one I hear from him or from my mother.

Like a bell at the top of the hill, awakening the town in it's motionless and peaceful state- everything stopped.

The voices, only roars of the sky threatens bolts of lights all around. The whisper of the waves, as it used to hush me to sleep just by listening to it, is now strikes in turbulent screams. The clouds once passing by the sun now covers the whole island like a cloth of heavy black. I could hear Jack from outside. Running, running after Mother for reasons they don't want me to know. Seems like it's a bitter tragedy that will destroy the fairytale ending to me.

"You, woman!" Jack finally reaches my mother. They're almost far that they won't see me standing at the pathway of the house. Covered in thick blankets as I face the mouth of the storm.

"I won't let you go anywhere, Elizabeth, you hear me?" Jack's rage is intensifying that worry hit me. Soon I decided to run after them, leaving the clothes to sink in the pool of mud. I reached the foot of the cliff without stumbling in my bare feet. Stones left scratches on my arms and legs as I rolled into the slippery slide. The water prick my eyes as I stare into the empty dark sky. I can hear gasps. Boots clubbing the wet sand. And faint muffled cries. Jack, calling my mother's name over and over again.

I tried to put my legs into use, scrambling for a branch to hang on. I am standing near the beach. Horror etched in my face, seeing that the sea almost ate the land. I approached the clearing where I can see from the forest and look for my mother. My hand flew to my mouth and my shoulders went rigid at the moment I saw my mother, limp in Jack's arms. I ran, almost jumping twice my foot could handle one at a time.

I quickly knelt beside my mother, breathless, as Jack slid her body for me to hold. It was me who was calling her name as Jack became silent. She didn't move. Her arms won't move, won't hold me like the way they do. Her voice gone as her lips won't turn they're usual redness that prof there's life within her. So, now she's dead? For the moment, I don't want to believe what my instinct tells me. Even evidently that there's no pulse in her heart, I tried not to see, for it frightens me.

The coldness from her body is enough for me to doubt hoping she can open those bright eyes once again. I look at Jack. For the first time, I wished that this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach is just because of my age, the state of innocent child I'm in, that it's different in Jack, knowing, experienced that he is. I am hoping he cannot see what I see, what I feel, what loss or just an accident that will be fixed in just a moment. But what I see in his face seems reflecting my own. His eyes closed and jaw tensed. I was fighting myself not to cry, as the pirate sitting beside me tried to do, despite the rain that mask them. I can see his face in total agony. Pain, sadness, guilt, anger: all of those somehow went into me in a matter of second.

"I'm sorry, son," I hear him whisper, but I kept talking, even blamed him, and he allowed me. I felt sorry for that I said as reality came crashing into my senses. I began to calm down, I told him not to blame himself, that it's the son's responsibility to take care of his mother. It is I who deserved to be blamed in the end.

I want know why she did this, insist on going into this bloody beach, even Jack couldn't break her determination. I look around us, saw a part of the soil being freshly dug. And what I saw under her long nails is what I hoped is not a part of that soil that the sea should have erased all the evidence when she drowned, when the sea took her life.

A shadow of a ship approached us. Jack stood with a expectant look at the said ship as it's image became clearer for us to see. I saw someone at the hull, looking down at us. I hear a name from Jack's lips. I thought he called me but I saw that he's looking straight ahead, at the person standing at the ship. Jack went by my side and scooped my mother's body in his arms. I was still sitting for my legs can't give me the strength to stand.

The ship docked already but the man made no attempt to get down. He just look at the my mother in Jack's arms as though he know her. He did. He even know Jack..

"Jack, tell me why this happen." He didn't took my mother. Jack was clutching her too hard against his chest as though it'll prevent something from happening, that it's something to do with this man's sudden appearance. Jack didn't answer only motioned the chest at his feet. I'm puzzled at his movement but the other man nodded grimly in understanding as he descend in one of the boat that is freed from its ropes against the ship. I'm now standing, following Jack as he saunters towards the boat. Until it's close enough, we stop. There, I could finally see the man's face. Blank. Full of nothing but the small sadness in his eyes told everything.

"I don't know the life I entrusted to her would be the one to take her own." I realized that at that moment, they're talking about Mother. I didn't know a thing, who and why the man is here. How he know my mother. But all of those is answered by only a few words.

He revealed himself as my father. The emotion inside me is too much that I don't know what to do. I can't find my voice to come out. I wanted to ran after him, cry in his embrace as he did so but I'm saddened that there's no warmth in him, just as how I found my mother's body is. I keep opening my mouth but the words won't just form. It show all my fears, when he lifted my mother in his arms. I struggled to get into the boat, but Jack's gripped me in my arms. I'm screaming, tears' ran unheeded now at my face.

"You've always been the one, always been, Jack." He tells him over his shoulder as he sail back to his ship, my mother is in his arms. Jack let out a deep sigh as well as the violent tears, turning almost half the way from the ship as it slowly sunk back under the sea.

Mother's going to meet my grandfather. I slowly realize that they're going to a place that so far away. They won't even go back. We can't see them anymore. No, not in a very long time. With that thought in my mind, I bury my face against Jack's strong shoulder as my mother's voice still ringing in my head.

"_You're father's the sea, my dear, William."_

There I saw that the sea has truly took the most important person in my life.

Year 1705

The sea with it's calm waves looks like the tragedy almost forty years ago didn't happen. The sand reflects the light like pearls, so astonishing, glimmering unlike the darkness that he always remembered that day. But now, the whole island is rich in it's brilliant treasures and name that's worldly known by now. Because of the sayings that the last pirate king left the last treasure of the pirates here, the house has her remaining things, things that proved that she lived her life, finally reaching her dream. The book '_The Freedom' _ she wrote is greatly loved by children, sailors- all of them. Toast to the Pirate King, Captain Swann.

Captain Jack Sparrow continued his life as a pirate lord after thirty-six years. His stories is never forgotten and remain ideal for younger men who lived being told of his adventures in the sea. There's someone who said, with his old wooden eye now replaced with gold after the discovery of ol'Bartholomew's treasure, that his captain's admiration for a certain damsel cut his long record of one-handling the many whores in Tortuga. I know my mother don't regret ever falling for a scoundrel.

I now stand in where all of these memories replayed, in my mind, that night is as clear as my wedding just yesterday. Two big stones lay beside each other, serving as the tombstone of Mother and Father. That bastard will probably shoot me if he hears me calling him my father. If wherever he's with now- with my mother, certainly. I tipped my hat at the words engraved in the stone:

"_We shall fight for freedom and never to die."_

_1701_

_Pirate Lord and Pirate King_

I took the wooden knife she gave me for passing the year of five that boys declare being out of your mother's blanket, but at my time it didn't mean that I got her away from being sensitive about my reckless experiments out of the house. After burying the knife in between the two stones, I turn to walk back to my ship. It's black sails flapping against the winds, waiting to be sailed once against through the sea. Fingering a single feather in my hair, I waved a hand to the island as I bid my farewell.

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me."

~FIN~

* * *

Fugitives From Justice's currently on debate right now. I'm thinking of making an epilogue for that, but can't think of any. i hope you enjoy readin this! R&R!


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